Stranger Things
by TheAllPowerfulOz
Summary: Live Journal Kink Meme Fill #9. NOT YAOI!


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Decided to try my hand at Hetero. Wish me luck.

**_Prompt;_**_ I want some Altair x Maria smut, and I want it detailing their first time together. Furthermore, I want Maria to take Altair's virginity. We know that he felt something for Adha, but we don't know that he acted on it, so it's highly possible that good ole' Alty was a virgin prior to Maria. If possible, I would like to see Maria completely dominate and corrupt him in the sack. Bonus points if the bureau cushions or a haystack are involved._

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**Stranger Things**

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She could tell simply by the way he kissed.

Just a sweet—too sweet—little peck on her lips and he'd pulled away, eyes on the ground color rising to his cheeks.

_Oh, Dear Lord… _She thought, her eyes widening in shock.

Here they were, hidden from view in her quarters, out of sight and out of mind, and he'd gone and done a thing like this.

_Worse,_ Maria felt her breath hitch in her throat. _No man I know has ever kissed me like that… No** MAN…** He's not—No, he couldn't possibly still—_

She remembered the journey across the world, leading the Pilgrims to the Holy Land, a young boy in their ranks, an archer. One night in his drunkenness he'd stumbled up to her where she'd been cleaning her blades and pressed a chaste, albeit sloppy kiss to her cheek and asked if the Lord would permit her to make a man out of him that night.

She'd clouted the idiot about the head and sent him whimpering away. A pock marked little nuisance he was. _"Be gone or I'll make a **woman** of you!"_ She'd screeched at him and kicked sand on his heels.

The others had laughed, she had too at the poor boy's expense.

But that had been a good year or more ago. And the boy—_every_ boy who had tried to bed her in fact, no matter his age—had always been quite homely in appearance, as it was with most young men who retained their virginity past their sixteenth year.

She'd been rather glad to be rid of hers truthfully… What a troublesome concept, saving yourself for marriage. How dismal… She much preferred the subtleties of carnal pleasure. A strong bed and a well versed lover were two of the greatest gifts in life, and she intended to enjoy it as frequently, and as… _vigorously—_ as humanly possible.

She'd inspected the man who stood before her now, with his high cheek bones, and his full lips… His long dark lashes and bronzed skin… all that lovely skin, just hiding beneath those hideous, lumpy robes. This man with exotic looking gold eyes and coarse black hair, but the undeniably European thinness of his nose… This man, living here in such a boisterous, sexually charged place, where women were kept under veils and wives practically bound to their beds… This place with scantily clad women moving their hips in quick erotic jerks as they danced—THIS MAN COULD NOT POSSIBLY STILL BE A VIRGIN!

It was a crime against God that such a creature had never known the way a man's body fits so perfectly into a woman's. The way that heat and sweat and f-friction can pull your very soul out and twine it with another's.

Assassins were supposed to be carnal, godless creatures. Their women used their sex to kill for God's sake! What would possess them to dictate, in such a society, that purity meant anything when they were trained since birth to murder?

Her brows drew down in confusion and she dipped her chin to peer beneath his hood. "What is this? This color? Have you suddenly caught fever?"

He swallowed, the knob of his throat bobbing stiffly, and for the first time since they had been aware of the other's existence, he seemed so entirely clumsy. All his grace and deadly precision gone like snow into an open flame. His mouth opened and closed a few times then sealed tightly and he shook his head.

"Surely you are not 'feared of me?" Her fingers trailed up the length of his arm and under his cowl, finding a thin thread of a closure on his tunic and pulling it. "I who am only a woman—"

"A woman who has matched herself against me with swords and fists and the heel of her boot?"

The words seemed halting and slightly awkward on his tongue, the roll of his vowels like a purr that shivered up and down her spine.

Her lips curled upward; "A woman who has bested you at all of the three."

His chin pulled in closer to his chest and the color in his face grew brighter.

"Do you wish to bed me?" She lifted one of his hands and formed it against her breast; "Claim this body as your own? Master it?"

And the way his hand tried to retreat as she held it there sealed her suspicions and her eyes flicked up to meet his, dancing with wicked flames, the fingers of her other hand walking slowly downward from his collar toward his groin.

"Does this _boy_ wish for me to lie down and offer myself to his whims an fancy like some blushing child bride?"

His brows curled downward indignantly but he didn't seem capable of coming up with the words in her native language to contradict these assumptions as to his manhood, or lack there of.

She couldn't help but chuckle at his expression. So very childish and spiteful that look.

The tip of Maria's tongue slid over her bottom lip and she became very aware of how his eyes followed it. With a smirk her palm slid firmly downward, fingers curling, grabbing him through the seam of his trousers. Feeling hunger pull at her inner flesh at the bulk and solidity she felt.

He rocked forward, eyes squeezed tightly closed in something akin to pain as she squeezed, the hand on her breast pushing forward, more in an attempt to keep his knees from buckling than to actually feel her breast.

"This is mine now… Do you understand? For this night, and every night after, I OWN this… You will see my face, hear my voice and feel my body whenever you are touched. No other woman will ever give you as much as I shall. Not even those white witches in your Keep. They may try and you may let them… But forever after, none will compare to me."

Sweat was already standing out in large beads on his brow and his hips were rocking uncertainly, but with great urgency into her palm. His reply just quiet little gasping noises.

She left his hand to cup and fondle her breast and tangled her fingers into his hair, yanking him down until their lips crashed together, and this time she did not settle for his innocent little kisses and the blush on his cheeks, her mouth and teeth and tongue sought his out to plunder and reap and conquer.

_What a prize_, she thought, catching his scarred lower lip between her teeth and pinching until it bled anew, cackling triumphantly when he pulled her closer, his body and mind and his very soul crying out for more. _To have an untried Assassin beneath me this night_.

She tossed her head back and laughed; _Come now, boy… and I'll make you a man._

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_*derp*_

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